The Lord of Chaos, Confusion and General Insanity
by Mendora Queen of Fire
Summary: Aragorn the Park Ranger! Trigger-happy ex-marine Boromir! A sensitive Ringwraith! And don't forget Gandalf on anger management and Sam the camera devil! It's all here! Read at your own risk...Bwahahaha!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all, for the most part, anyway. I don't think he'd want to see what I've done to his masterpiece in the name of humor. I also don't own any of the various movies and books I might mention.

A/N: This is mostly a parody of the movie, although I do throw in a bit from the book from time. It's also set in the same time period, but for some strange reason, modern technology keeps popping up every so often, like, ah, Pippin's D.J booth and a pickup truck. Please review when you're done reading this chapter, even if it's just a "lol" or "god this sucks" or something. I want to know if anyone's seen this and all this typing has not been in vain.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, Mendora Queen of Fire presents to you:

The Lord of Chaos, Confusion and General Insanity

It was another beautiful day in the Shire. They all seemed to start that way, but, while the weather could be nice and balmy and lovely late-summerish, events often transpired within these days that could possibly not be all that desirable. Such as today. As we are about to discover.

It was a good day to just flop under a tree with a good book and read it cover to cover, but in a certain hobbit's case that book would feature a certain teenage wizard with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and crazy black hair. His cousin (or caretaker, guardian, warden, take your pick) didn't approve of these books, not for their "satanic" references or anything, but because Frodo couldn't keep quiet when he read them. If he read them in his comfy hobbit-hole, he would randomly yell out things on the order of "oh wow, cool!" "God, Hermonie sounds hot!" "Sweet!" "Completely, totally and in all other ways inconceivable!" (a l´ Vizini from "The Princess Bride) and, of course "Dudical Dude!" These were often followed by an ongoing spiel of Harry-Potter babble that drove Bilbo up the wall. 

That's why Frodo was reading in the woods this particular day.

Now it happened that a certain Wizard arrived in Hobbiton that day, who happened to be a friend of Bilbo's. Actually, he pitied the poor hobbit for being stuck with Frodo 24/7 and had recently been conspiring with him to get rid of Frodo and his band of equally loony friends. They would have settled with just getting them out of the Shire, but sending them off on a suicide mission would be even better. That way they wouldn't come back. 

It just so happened that the road said Wizard was traveling along in his horse-drawn cart passed not very far away from the place Frodo was reading, and his sharp ears picked up the sound of the cart approaching. Or, more accurately, the sounds of the Wizard cursing at the horse to move faster. Frodo jumped up, excited at the possibility to have someone else to annoy besides Bilbo.

He dashed through the trees down to the road, meeting the cart as it came around a bend. He grinned when he heard Gandalf.

"Will you move faster, you damn bag of bones?! Hell, I could get there faster than you if I crawled. Come on, move your ass! Oh wait, you ARE an ass…"

He got a glimpse of Frodo as he came, and panicked. This was definitely NOT in the game plan. He cursed even more savagely at his poor beast of burden, which, miraculously, broke into a trot. 

"Wait!" called Frodo, running alongside. "C'mon Gandalf, wait for me!"

A sudden inspiration occurred to the wizard. The plan would go along much smoother if he made some attempt to be civil to Frodo. Hurriedly, he reined in the horse.

"Whoa, dumb ass! Stop! I said STOP! Geez, I couldn't get you to go before, and now you won't stop. What's WRONG with horses today? I-"

The horse obeyed, digging its hooves into the road with all the force it had. The result was nothing short of a small-scale car collision. The cart whammed into the horse's hindquarters, Gandalf's hat fell down over his eyes, the horse reared, throwing its driver over the back of the seat of the cart to land with and undignified _whump _on top of his carefully concealed stack of fireworks.

Frodo took no notice of the wizard's predicament and he caught up with the cart.

"You're" he panted, "late. Seventeen minutes and forty-two seconds to be exact. What kept you?"

Gandalf forced a painful smile. "Engine trouble," he said, gesturing toward his horse and trying to extract himself from his fireworks at the same time. He instantly regretted that excuse as he watched Frodo's eyes light up. He just _knew_ that Frodo was about to spout out, word for word, the entire _Quarter Horse's Owner's Manual_ in an attempt to identify the problem.

"-But I get it fixed back in Southfarthing, don't worry," he added hastily before the hobbit could get started.

Frodo looked distinctly disappointed, and Gandalf was very relieved at his quick save. 

"Oh-um well, it's wonderful to see you Gandalf!"

"Yeah, whatever. Hop in the cart. You're coming back with me."

Frodo's face fell. "But, but…I wanna read some more! Can I stay a little longer? You can come with me, I'll tell you all about-"

"NO!" Gandalf shouted, knowing what he'd be in for if he did. Frodo jumped, startled.

"No," he said, a bit more gently, trying to force regret into his voice. "I'm in a bit of a hurry so…"

"Oh, okay! I'll tell you about the Chamber of Secrets on the way."

"Oh shit."

Frodo hopped in the cart and they were off. They rode along in a prickly silence for a ways, then Frodo spoke up. To Gandalf's profound relief, he didn't mention Harry Potter. On the other hand, what he did mention was a rather ticklish subject that Gandalf had been hoping he could avoid.

"You know, I think you and Bilbo are up to something. At least Bilbo, anyway…"

"Now where would you get a stupid ass idea like that?" the Wizard snapped.

Unfazed, Frodo replied "Well, he's been acting a bit odd lately. I mean, stranger than usual."

"And you have a right to judge strange," Gandalf thought. Out loud he said, "So his mind must have finally cracked. It was bound to one of these days. I mean, one can only live with you so long that-"

"You mean the party-planning's stressing him out?"

Gandalf couldn't decide if this hobbit was as stupid as he made himself look. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, concentrating on a single sentence in his head: "_I_ will be nice to Frodo, I _will be_ nice to Frodo, I will be _nice_ to Frodo, I will be nice to _Frodo._" It was all that was keeping him from throwing him off the cart.

"Oh yeah, the party! I hear it's gonna be huge."

"Yessiree, half the Shire's been invited, and the ones who haven't are showing up anyway."

"He's getting a D.J, right?"

"Yup."

"Who?"

"Pippin Took, I think."

"Oh no."

"Let me off here," Frodo said.

"With pleasure"

"Gandalf, I'm glad you're back"

"Wish I was."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that day:

Gandalf finally arrived at Bag End, ignored the No Admittance sign and banged on the door with his staff.

"Bug off!" came an irritable voice from somewhere inside. "You can't have any more money! I', so sick and tired of you people coming over here thinking that-"

"Shut up, Bilbo, you moron, it's me! We have a Frodo to get rid of, remember?"

"Oh it's you. Oops, sorry, coming…"

The round front door swung open a few moments later, revealing a short little hobbit with wild white hair.

"Yo, Gandalf, my man, what's up?" Bilbo said. He moved to hug the wizard, who stopped him with a raised hand.

"Don't'-touch-me," he said through clenched teeth, wondering of all hobbits were as annoying as Frodo.

"Er, sorry, okay, c'mon in!"

WHAM.

"OW! Goddammit!" 

Gandalf had, and not for the first tome, smacked his head into the doorjamb." Why can't they make these stupid things any higher?"

"You gotta duck. Not my fault, dude."

"Whatever."

"I'll make you some tea, make you feel better."

"Whatever."

"I get some bottles from the old vineyard left. 1296, very good year. Almost as old as I am! It was laid down by my father. What say we open one, eh?"

Gandalf was tempted, but he had had previous experience with Bilbo and alcohol. He needed him sober now to discuss their plans for getting rid of Frodo.

"Nah, just tea."

"Okay."

Bilbo took off down the hall, and Gandalf tried to straighten up from his crouched position in the foyer.

CRASH.

"Dammit! Whoa, good thing he didn't have that chandelier lit."

He turned to go down the hall.

BONK.

"That does it!" 

He stormed down the hall after Bilbo, in a rage, but managed to be perfectly silent at the same time. (He's a wizard, remember?) The hobbit had been chattering on about what other things were in his pantry that he could serve Gandalf as Gandalf himself was sneaking up behind him.

"…I can make you some eggs if you like-"

"JUST TEA, GODDAMMIT!"

"YAH! All right…"

So the tea was eventually served, Gandalf crammed up to the table with Bilbo puttering around the kitchen.

"So you mean to go through with your plan then?" Gandalf asked.

"Why should I chicken out now? What's to lose? I mean, the worst that can happen is that Frodo gets killed or lost or something along the way-"

"You mean the best."

"Hey, he can occasionally be useful. He built-" Bilbo nodded towards an odd-looking contraption in the corner of the room-"that. I'm not entirely sure what it does, but every morning since it's been there, I've had a nice warm breakfast. And second breakfast, too, some to think of it."

"Good grief. You're not thinking of _keeping_ him are you?" exclaimed Gandalf, horrified.

"No, no, of course not. He's way more trouble than he's worth."

"Good."

Gandalf chugged down his tea, wiped his beard with the back of his hand and set his cup back down on the table with a clunk. "Ahhh, good tea."

"Thanks dude."

"So, let's go over the plan one more time." Gandalf said.

"Why?"

"To make sure you don't screw anything up."

"Oh."

"Okay, so after you finish making your birthday speech, you will do what?" Gandalf asked.

"I will put on the Ring Thing and vanish." Bilbo said

"Good. And then?"

"Make a dash for the house, grab my stuff, toss the Ring Thing on the mantle and take off for the Elves' place." Bilbo recited.

"Excellent. And then I'll be here when Frodo gets back, make a big fuss about you forgetting the Ring and make him go return it. With any luck, that Dark Lord guy'll send out his Black Rider dudes and they'll find the Ring on Frodo and be very upset."

"It's perfect!" Bilbo practically squealed. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"DAMMIT! DON"T _SAY_ THAT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, _NO_!!"

"VerysorryGandalf."

"You should be."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later, at the party:

"Now _this_ is a party!" Frodo shouted into Samwise Gamgee's ear over the pulsing music blasting from Pippin's DJ set. It was some form of hip-hop, but neither hobbit could tell what song it was, let alone which artist. The music was just too darn loud.

"I agree. Hey, Frodo, smile!" Sam yelled as he pointed his brand-new camera at Frodo, who struck a pose and grinned as it flashed. He blinked several times, still smiling like an idiot, trying to clear the dancing lights from in front of his eyes.

"Wow. Dude, that's really bright."

"Thanks. Wanna go talk to Pippin?" Sam said, gesturing toward the DJ set. The little hobbit was buried behind the amp, sound board and speakers, but his head could be seen bobbing up and down in time to the music, a gigantic pair of earphones nearly swallowing his skull.

"And admit we _know_ him? I think not," Frodo said, aghast.

"Hey, I hang around you, don't I? I mean, you compared to Pippin, well, he may be slightly saner."

"Define sane," Frodo snapped indignantly.

Sam just grinned. An attractive young hobbit lass by the name of Rosie Cotton had just caught his eye. He hadn't heard a word he had said. Frodo noticed.

"Maybe you'd just like to go talk to Rosie, hmm?" he suggested in a sugary-sweet tone. Sam faltered.

"Nah, c'mon, let's go talk to Pippin…" Sam began to make his way through the mass of dancing hobbits towards the DJ set, in the opposite direction of Rosie.

"Oh, no you don't!" 

Frodo grabbed his friend's shoulders, turned him around and gave him a shove in Rosie's direction. He didn't need any more persuading. Sam took her by the hand and they started dancing. Frodo laughed victoriously and glanced over in Pippin's direction.

Bilbo was over by the DJ set, both hands pressed to his ears and shouting something at Pippin, who didn't look up. Bilbo reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. Pippin glanced over, smiled and waved. Bilbo shouted again, but Frodo couldn't catch it. Apparently, neither could Pippin. He mouthed something that looked like _"what?" _Bilbo was beginning to look exasperated as he repeated himself. Pippin shouted again that he couldn't hear him.

Bilbo threw up his hands and crawled under the sound board. A few seconds later the music stopped abruptly with a loud and painful burst of feedback.

"That's better," Bilbo sighed, climbing back out. "Okay, time for my speech. Attention, my dear Bagginses and…" He was shouting to be heard over the chattering crowd. Pippin handed him the microphone that was sitting by the sound board, and Bilbo climbed up onto a convenient stack of barrels a little ways away.

"Thank-" SKAREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! "-You Pippin. Starting over. My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks, Grubbs, Chubbs, Proudfoots…" His voice trailed off, and he appeared to be counting on his fingers, muttering something. "I know I didn't invite the Brandybucks, but I know they're here. Bracegirdles…did they even show up? Yeah, I think they did. Oh well, anyway. Okay, my dear EVERYBODIES, today is my one hundred and elevev-ev-enth birthday!"

This statement was met with enthusiastic applause. "Alas," he continued, feeling like he was on a roll, "eleventy-one years is-" SKAREEEEEEEECH! _"IIIIIII'm comin' up so you better get this party started…."_

Pippin had fired up the music again, this time with Pink. The guests cheered appreciatively and went back to dancing. Frodo shrugged and began to make his way over to the DJ set to see if he couldn't re-wire it and give Bilbo more time to finish his speech. Bilbo was having similar thoughts, although his methods of "re-wiring" were decidedly different from Frodo's. They involved wire-cutters and a baseball bat. Fortunately, Frodo got there first, and, with his dexterous hobbit fingers, managed to reconnect a few wires (miraculously, without Pippin noticing) in such a was that the speakers would be connected directly to the mic and bypass the soundboard. Well, that was his intention, anyway. He got something backwards (but don't ask me how he did it) to cause the booming music to come out of the mic.

__

"MAKIN' MY CONNECTION AS I ENTER THE ROOM…."

Bilbo was nearly blasted off his feet, as he was still hanging onto the microphone.

"Oops," Frodo muttered, then hastily pulled a few plugs so the wires connected as he originally intended. The music died again to moans of disappointment from the crowd. Pippin desperately scanned his precious DJ set for some sign of what was wrong. He spotted Frodo lying on his back underneath the soundboard, severed wire in each hand, which were smoking slightly. Pippin shot him a look of pure venom, which Frodo returned with what he hoped was an innocent grin.

"Ah, thank you Frodo," said Bilbo as he realized that he had control of the mic once again. "As I was saying, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. I don't like half of you half as well as I should know, and I like-no, wait that wasn't it. I like half of you as well as I shouldn't know-no, that wasn't it either. I don't like-oh, screw it. Okay dudes, that's outta the way. I-I, um, have things to do. I regret to announce-Hey, Merry, Pippin, knock it off!"

He had spotted the two hobbits in the middle of the dance floor, holding his audience captive as they crowd-surfed across the mob. Sam was standing on the sidelines, delightedly snapping pictures of the action, which abruptly ended with Bilbo's shout. Merry and Pippin both crashed to the ground as their bearers dropped them. 

"All righty. Gotta bug off. Stuff to do you know. Toodles!"

Bilbo vanished.

The crowd gasped in surprise. Frodo studied the pair of wires in his hands, checking to see if he'd done anything to the mic to cause Bilbo to spontaneously combust. Not immediately seeing anything amiss, he wandered out onto the dance floor to see if Merry and Pippin were okay. Very big mistake. 

Pippin spotted him as he climbed up off the floor. He stormed over as Frodo desperately looked around for a good hiding place. Not seeing one, he turned to face the furious Took. He'd go down like a man-er, a hobbit.

"What's up with sabotaging the DJ, huh?" he demanded as he came level with Frodo. "Do you know how much that cost me? You'd better make it work again or I'll-"

Sorrynotimegottago," Frodo said quickly as he turned tail and beat feet back up to Bag End.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Now it's your turn! See that button down there? The one that says "go"? Click it and type something! Please, please please…I need reviews! Thank you for your cooperation!


	2. The Shadow of the Post

Chapter 2 The Shadow of the Post

A/N: I'm very excited! I'd had chapter one up for only five minutes and I got a review! Thank you! I appreciate your advice. Yeah, it is a tad slow, but not to worry! It picks up as we go along. To Perfect-Princess: Best parody you've ever read? Really? I'm honored! Thank you so much! Enjoy chapter two!

Bilbo made his way back to Bag End after he disappeared by putting on the Ring. He was gloating inwardly as he ran, overjoyed that the plan had finally been put into motion and the first part had been pulled off so flawlessly. Now all he had to do was hurry up and leave before Frodo caught on and came looking for him.

He breezed through the door, pulled off the Ring with a gleeful chuckle then proceeded to pack. He moved into the living room, where Gandalf was waiting.

"What took you so damn long?" the wizard demanded impatiently. It was obvious he'd been waiting for a long time.

"Had, um, a little trouble with the DJ," Bilbo mumbled as he threw some last minute articles into his backpack. He didn't really feel like reliving that embarrassing episode for Gandalf right at the moment, so he made a great show of looking around to see if he'd forgotten anything.

"Where's the Ring at?" Gandalf asked.

`"On the mantelpiece, duh," Bilbo said distractedly. "Oh, hang on, here it is in my pocket."

"Well, put it up there and get the hell outta here!"

"Fine."

Bilbo set the golden band on the shelf above the fireplace and took off for the door. "See ya later, dude!" he called as it slammed shut.

Gandalf sat down on a stool in front of the fireplace with a sigh. Now came the hard part, at least for him. He had to stay at Bag end for a few days, allowing Bilbo a decent head start, then he'd "find" the Ring and make sure Frodo really headed out to give it back to Bilbo. Then he would enjoy the rest of his Frodo-free days.

The first glitch occurred a complete two seconds after these thoughts had run through Gandalf's mind.

"Biiiiiiiillllllllllboooooooooooo! Oh, Biiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllllbbbooooooooooo! Save meeeeee! There's a mad Took after meeee!"

Frodo's call for help came not thirty seconds after Bilbo had taken off. Gandalf gasped in horror, then dashed to the front door and flung it open.

"Frodo! Get_ in_ here! NOW! He shouted, noticing the bushes alongside the walkway twitching slightly. To the wizard's profound relief, Frodo didn't notice. He was running too fast. He charged through the doorway, hit the polished wood floor of the foyer, spun out, and crashed into the opposite wall as Gandalf slammed the door, breathing almost as loudly as Frodo was.

"Fascinating," Frodo said between gasps. "The low friction level of this floor is astounding, especially at high velocity. Perhaps if I oiled my feet next time-"

"No. There will not be a next time. Go to bed. You've been having waaaaay too much fun tonight."

"Okay, but…Hold on, do you know what happened to Bilbo? He just kinda vanished at the party and-"

"Yes, Frodo, I know. He's gone to stay with the Elves." Gandalf was trying his level best to be patient with Frodo. The plan depended on it.

"Where do the Elves live?" Frodo inquired. "I've always wanted to-"

"Bree," Gandalf said, cutting him off. "That's where the Elves live. Now, no more questions. Good night."

Gandalf knew full well that the Elves did not live in Bree, but he couldn't risk Frodo trying to track his cousin down at this time, not while he was still trying to make his desperate escape after that first close call.

"Okay, good night." Frodo said as he headed down the hall to his room. Then he paused and came back, remembering something he needed to tell Gandalf.

"Oh yeah, if any deranged Tooks come to the door, don't let them in, okay?"

"Frodo, I couldn't let any _un_-deranged Tooks in the house this time of night. Go to sleep."

"Okay Gandalf. Nighy-night!" Frodo said in the most sickening sugary-sweet voice he was capable of. 

The wizard glanced around for any possible suicide weapons. Unfortunately for Gandalf, Frodo had removed them long ago for Bilbo's sake. That, and he needed some for the construction of his breakfast-making machine. Giving up, Gandalf plopped down into an undersized armchair and closed his eyes, meditating on two phrases:

_I will be nice to Frodo. Just three more days…_He soon dozed off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He woke up the next morning free of suicidal urges. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and bacon sitting on the stool in front of him, courtesy of Frodo's breakfast-making machine. There was also a note from Frodo saying that he'd left early to clean up the party site, so now all Gandalf had to complain about that the crick in his neck from having his head flopped over the back of the chair all night. Needless to say, he was in a considerably better mood than he had been the previous evening.

He was just sitting down to breakfast when the doorbell rang. He prayed it wasn't Frodo back already as he made his way to the front.

He needn't have worried. It was just the mailman.

"Postcard for a Gandalf the Grey," he said, brandishing a card that featured a picture of Orthanc Tower on the front of it.

"That's me," Gandalf said as he took it. "Thanks."

He was wondering who knew he was here as he turned it over. It read:

__

Dear Wizard,

I am pleased to announce that the entire wizard order is holding its fiftieth thousand-year anniversary this coming Sunday at Orthanc Tower, Isengard. Please come! (Or else) Love, Saruman.

Gandalf was dumbstruck. Saruman? He hadn't seen him for (literally) ages. They'd been fairly good buddies way back when, but they'd lost touch over the centuries, as is often the way with long-distance relationships of this sort. He was elated; the timing worked perfectly. Today was Wednesday, so by Friday Bilbo would probably far enough ahead to safely let Frodo go, then Gandalf could start for Isengard.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wednesday and Thursday passed without further incident, apart form a few small explosions from Frodo's room that didn't seem to be of any consequence. The first time, Gandalf ran into his room in a panic, thinking that Frodo was trying to blow the house up or something. The hobbit calmly tried to wipe the soot off his face and singed hair as he explained that he was trying out a potion from one of the books he was reading, but something hadn't worked right. _Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets _was lying open on his bed, stained with some nameless substance and one corner was on fire. After that, Gandalf just left him alone, preferring that he didn't know. The wizard was quite relieved when Friday came around.

"Frodo! Come quick!"

"What? What happened?" Frodo asked urgently as he ran into the parlor.

"Bilbo forgot his Ring! He'll be quite upset! I'm surprised he hasn't some back for it already!"

"I'll take it to him! Where did you say he was staying?"

__

Hook, line and sinker, Gandalf thought, gloating.

__

"Bree," he said, trying to hide a triumphant smirk. "He's staying at the Prancing Pony."

"On my way!"

Frodo grabbed a spare pack, threw some extra clothes in it and ran for the door.

"Stop!" Gandalf shouted as Frodo yanked the door open. "You forget the Ring!"

"Oh…right."

Gandalf tossed the Ring to Frodo, who caught it easily and was just about to step through the door when a rustling noise came from under the front window.

"Stop! Wait a sec!"

The wizard was sneaking up on the window, brandishing his staff like some kind of weapon. Frodo tensed, wondering what was going on. He didn't have to wait long. Gandalf struck.

"OW! yelled a voice from underneath the window. Gandalf reached down and grabbed something and yanked it in through the window. That something turned out to be Samwise Gamgee. A very surprised Samwise Gamgee.

"Dammit, Sam, are you eavesdropping?"

"I haven't been dropping no eaves, sir, honest. I was just trimming the grass under the window there, if you follow me."

"Sam? Sam, dear, what happened? Where'd you go?" came a young female's voice from under the window, which sounded much like Rosie Cotton's.

"Uh-huh," said Gandalf, trying very hard not to laugh. "Trimming the grass, riiiiiiiight. Well, I don't think you heard anything. You seemed sufficiently distracted."

Frodo doubled up with giggles.

"Uh, that's right! I was. I mean, no! I wasn't. I was just…not with Rosie. Only Rosie wasn't there. I mean…I was just trimming the grass! Okay, I was eavesdropping! But I wasn't…I didn't…I…. swear…" Sam's stuttering trailed off as he noticed that Gandalf had leveled his staff at his head. He managed to squeak out a rather pathetic "oh dear," before falling silent.

"No? Well, I've thought of a better use for you," Gandalf said, diabolical grin crossing his face.

So that's how Frodo and Sam set off together for Bree. When they were safely out of sight, Gandalf got on his horse and galloped off to Isengard, very excited about the wizard reunion and seeing all his old buddies again. The adventure had officially begun.

I apologize for the short length of this chapter! Next one's gonna introduce my overly-sensitive Nazgul! Yippee! Review please! Thank youverymuch!


	3. Short cut to Nothing

Chapter 3-A Shortcut to…NOTHING!

I apologize for the dreadful amount of time it took me to update! There's this little thing called homework and…Anyway, for those of you who've been waiting so patiently to meet my sensitive Nazgul, your patience is about to be rewarded. So sit back and relax, my friends, as Mendora proudly presents chapter 3!

Frodo and Sam had been on the road for several rather uneventful days, except for the watching the wood-elves leaving that one night. Frodo still couldn't get Sam to shut up about how sad it all was, which had resulted in some rather "aggressive negations", as it were. Yes, Sam's black eye is healed by the time we pick up with these two again, never fear…

Now they were hiking through the middle of some random cornfield for no particular reason, except that Frodo thought that it would be a handy shortcut to avoid the East Road, just for the heck of it. Sam was having difficult time bush-whacking through the rows of corn, and had lost sight of Frodo, who had found a convenient trail through the field and was getting pretty far ahead of Sam.

A few feet later, Sam eventually found the trail, but Frodo. He looked around and ahead, a bit concerned.

"Frodo?"

No answer.

"Frodo!"

He broke into a run, now scared. "Mister Frodo!"

To Sam's profound relief, the hobbit in question soon came trotting into sight around a bend.

"What? What?" he said, sounding alarmed.

"I thought I lost you."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's just something Gandalf said."

"What did he say?"

"'Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee. That-er-stupid moron of a hobbit couldn't get halfway to Bree…'"

"Sam, we're still in the Shire, what could possibly happen?"

When, when WHEN will literary characters learn that whenever someone utters those words that something will ALWAYS happen?

__

Smack.

A three-and-a-half foot tall blur plowed into Frodo, taking him completely off his feet. Seconds later, a slightly shorter blur creamed Sam, with similar results.

"Hey, Merry, lookit! It's Frodo Baggins!"

"I donno," the other blur giggled. "Looks kinda like Sam to me…hey, ow! Watch it!"

Sam shoved Merry off him and got to his feet, then roughly dragged Pippin off of Frodo. Merry handed Sam a few bottles. A realization dawned on him.

"You've been into Farmer Maggot's still!"

"Huh? Why yes, so we have. Hey, you can't expect a hobbit to EAT all his corn, do you?" Merry explained, swaying slightly, and Pippin was giggling and hanging onto Frodo for balance.

"Nope, who wants to-HIC-eat all his corn? Good stuff-hehehehe-good stuff-HIC."

Suddenly, a dog started barking, and the sound of an angry farmer's voice approached through the rows of corn. 

"Uh-oh," said Pippin in a much too happy tone.

"Busted," giggled Merry. "C'mon."

They turned and ran into the corn field.

"Don't know why he's so upset. Only a couple of-hic-bottles…"

"Damn good bottles. If I was him, I wouldn't want to be parted with those."

"Speaking of which, hey, Sam! Where's those-"

"Uh-oh."

Frodo stopped dead at the edge of a rather nasty-looking ledge. Merry and Pippin skidded to a halt close behind. Sam, bringing up the rear, didn't react quickly enough. He went careening on past and rolled down the slope all by himself.

"AAAAAAAHH!"

"SAM!"

"Stupid, fat, hobbit," Pippin giggled.

"That's Gollum's line fool," Merry said. "Frodo, what the-?"

Frodo was already about halfway down the slope, rolling head over hairy feet after Sam, who had already reached the bottom.

"_Two _stupid fat hobbits."

"This definitely wasn't in the script."

"So what are we gonna do?" Pippin asked anxiously.

"This."

Merry went tumbling after Frodo.

"Come- oof- on-ow -Pip…"

Pippin sighed, tucked in his shirt, and flung himself down the hill. "Aaaaas yooooou wiiiiiisssssh…"

Sam was in a very bad mood when the third hobbit fell on top of him.

"Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!" Sam grumbled as he extracted himself from the pile of hobbits and sat up.

"What? It was a detour! A shortcut!" Pippin said matter-of-factly.

"Shortcut to what?"

"Er-" Pippin glanced around, trying to find a reason for coming down. Frodo shifted himself off of a patch of-

"Mush-!"

"Nothing," sighed Merry. "Mushroom moosh."

"There's mushroom moosh on Frodo's tush!" exclaimed Pippin, pointing. "Hey, that rhymes! Mushroom moosh on Frodo's tush, Mushroom moosh on Frodo's tush, Mushroom moosh on Frodo's tush…" he chanted.

"Shut _up_!"

Frodo wandered a little way down the Road (they landed along side it, remember?) with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It might have been from the dizzying tumble, or Pippin's little chant, but most likely it came from a premonition that something incredibly evil was coming up the road towards them even now.

"I think we should get off the road," he said.

"Pippin, will you _shut up_?" Merry demanded.

"Mushroom moosh on Frodo's tush, Mushroom moosh on Frodo's tush,"

"PIPPIN!"

"Get off the road! Quick!"

"Whatsa matter, Frodo?" Sam asked.

"C'mon!"

"All right, all right…"

The hobbit dove for cover underneath a convenient roof of tree roots, wondering what the heck was going on.

"Merry, what the heck is going on?"

"Sssh!"

Frodo heard sinister hoofbeats stop above their heads. He heard the rider dismount…"

"Hey, lookit, Merry, there's a spider on your shoulder!" Pippin whispered.

"What? AAAAAAH! GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF!"

"Merry!" all three other hobbits exclaimed in barely contained whispers, but too late. Merry was dancing around, frantically trying to swipe the offensive arachnid off and screaming bloody murder.

"DIE SPIDER, DIE! GET OFF! OFF, I SAY…eek."

"Hey lookit, Merry, there's a guy with no face behind you!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

This time it was all four hobbits screaming bloody murder. They started to run for it when-

"W-wait, w-will you, ::sniff::, please?"

All the hobbits stopped and turned around.

"Excuse me?" said Frodo.

"Every-everyone-::sniff:: does th-that when they s-see me! Nobody loves me…"

Frodo was utterly perplexed.

"Uh, sorry, uh, sir. Can we help you?"

The Black Rider sniffled again and wiped his hand across the black hole in the front of his hood in the general proximity of where is nose should have been. He seemed to compose himself somewhat, because his voice was a little less shaky when he spoke next.

"I-I need directions. My Master-er, my _boss _is a jewelry collector, he sent me out to find this ring so he can take over the world, the, uh _jewelry_ market world, that is, and anyway, a guy named Baggins has it now. Do you know any Bagginses?"

"Baggins?_ Sure_, I know a Baggins!" Pippin said excitedly. "He's over there! _Frodo_ Baggins! _And_ he's got a ring, don't you Frodo?"

"Yeah, I do," Frodo said, pulling out the Ring and examining it. "I donno, though. It must be a valuable piece, right? I wouldn't give it away to just any no-faced freak-"

"Whaaaaaaa!" the Rider wailed. "S-so I don't have a face! That's n-no excuse to be so _mean_!"

"Sorry!" said Frodo. "Sorry, I really am!"

The Rider seemed to calm a bit. "Yeah?"

"Anyway, I think it's better if you _earned_ my Ring. Well, it's no my Ring, exactly, it's my cousin's."

"Hey, I have an idea!" Pippin chimed in. "Let's race to Bree! We get there first, Frodo keeps the Ring, you get there first, you get the Ring. Hobbits get a two-minute head start since the faceless freak has a horse! Readysetgo!"

"Pippin!" Sam called after him as he vanished into the brush. The Black Rider was starting to cry again.

"Too late, c'mon!" yelled Merry, taking off after his cousin. Frodo followed close behind.

"Wait, guys! Shouldn't we at least try to calm him down?"

He got no reply. The Rider was still sobbing.

"Er, sir? Can I take your picture?" Sam asked tentatively, pulling his camera from his pocket.

"W-what for?"

"Just because."

CLICK.

"AAAH! I c-can't see…"

"That's 'cause you don't have eyes. Bye."

Sam flew out of there as fast as his little hobbit legs would take him. That rider had a sword, and Sam had no idea what a very upset Rider might do with it, given the chance. Not like he wanted to find out.

"Guys! Guys!" Sam called to the other three as he caught up with them. "I got us a few more minutes head start!"

"How?" Frodo asked.

"Took a picture of him and made him cry."

"That's, uh, great."

"So, how do we get to Bree, anyway?" Pippin asked casually.

"WHAT? This was your idea!" Sam cried.

"Yeah, how can one race a faceless freak to Bree if one does not know the _way _to Bree?" Frodo added.

"Chill, guys._ I_ know the way."

"How would you know the way, Merry?"

"We're burning our head start…"

"Right. Buckleberry Ferry, follow me!"

Now it's your turn! Tell me what you thought! Is it moving too slow? I don't mind if you flame me. Oh, speaking of flames, can someone give me a good idea for a funny twist to the bridge of Khazad-Dum scene? I'm kinda stuck for that. Thanks!


	4. The Tantrum of Isengard

Chapter 4-The Tantrum of Isengard

"Giddyap! Hi ho Silver!" Gandalf whooped as he rode through Isengard's gates. He could not _wait_ to see all his old buddies again, and of course partake of Saruman's finest orc-brewed Orthanc ale and wine. It would be a party of special magnificence, although he didn't know what it would be like if Saruman Jr. the Pink showed up. The gender of the White Wizard's offspring had not yet been disclosed to Gandalf, but he had a feeling that he didn't really want to know. Junior was quite young, by wizard terms anyway, and hadn't been able to attend the last reunion.

Gandalf reigned in his mount at the foot of a huge set of stairs leading up into Orthanc Tower. A white figure was descending. 

"Smoke rises from the mountain of Doom, the hour grows late, and Gandalf the Grey-"

"-Is the first one to arrive at the party. Stuff it, Saruman, how ya been?"

The White wizard's tone did not change at all when he spoke next. "You've spoiled my grand entrance, Gandalf. How very inconsiderate, my old friend."

Gandalf quickly noted that Saruman's kick-ass staff was leveled in the general direction of his head. He decided to switch from his laid-back attitude to a more diplomatic one, one he only used in dealing with this particular wizard.

"Then do accept my sincerest apology," he said quickly. "Please continue."

"Very well…And Gandalf the Grey rides to Isengard, bearing ill-oh, wait, that was the book version. Lemme think…oh yeah, it was And Gandalf the Grey rides to Isengard, bearing my council…dammit, I _knew _that line, I shoulda read…" His voice faded as he noticed the expression that Gandalf was wearing (and probably the one all you readers are wearing, come to think of it). "Why don't we just go for a little stroll in the garden, shall we?" Saruman said after a rather scratchy pause.

"Sounds just spiffy, buddy-boy."

"Do not cause me to lose my temper, friend. 

"Wouldn't dream of it. Shall we?"

"Come."

A few minutes later Gandalf brought up a rather touchy subject as they were strolling along.

"So, where's the party?"

"I'm warning you-"

"I was just _asking_!"

"I have no knowledge of their whereabouts. None of the others have arrived yet."

"No, duh."

"I _told _you-"

"Hey, watch where you're pointing that stick, White Man-"

"Don't you ever call me-"

"Saruman."

"What?"

"I said sorry, man! Boy you're touchy today!"

"Would not you feel a bit irate if _your_ party was a flop?" Saruman demanded angrily.

"How can you call the party a flop? I _am_ the party, White Man!"

"_How darest thou_?"

Saruman's staff was mere inches from Gandalf's face. 

"Maaaaybe we oughta go inside, dude," Gandalf said. "You need to have a martini and sit dawn for a little while."

"Is that an insult?"

"No, it's a suggestion. Come on, buddy-boy!"

With that, Gandalf whirled and headed back for the tower, forcing Saruman to follow. The wizard's usually white complexion had trued an interesting shade of vermilion, and his staff was smoking slightly. 

He caught up with Gandalf by the front steps, intending to show the Grey Wizard the full extent of his wrath, but was thrown off when he asked a simple question.

"Hey, is Junior planning on coming?"

"Junior is _here_."

"Oh, she is? Cool."

It was a random guess on Gandalf's part, but who else besides a girl would have the title "The Pink"?

"He. Come, friend." Saruman brushed past Gandalf and went into the tower. Gandalf followed, sniggering softly to himself. 

He entered the throne room and glanced around. it looked exactly as it had at the last reunion, with two notable changes. There was a pedestal in the center of the room, a black cloth covering a round lump on the top, and a teenage figure sprawled across the throne, sporting bright pink robes and a black cowboy hat and looking absolutely mortified.

"Gandalf, this is my son, Saruman Jr. The Pink. Junior, this is Gandalf the Grey," Saruman said, attempting an introduction.

"Don't call me Junior," he grumbled, crossing his arms and curling up into a tighter ball. 

"Now, Junior, don't be rude. Come shake hands with the nice wizard."

"Do I gotta?"

"Yes, you do."

"Fine."

Junior got up and shuffled over to Gandalf. He shook his hand limply without looking at him and muttered something that may have been "'S happinen' pops?" He quickly shuffled back to the throne and assumed the fetal position.

"Well, I'm, uh, pleased to meet you, Junior."

"DON'T CALL ME JUNIOR!"

"You're just like your father-"

"HEY!" shouted Saruman and Junior in unison. "I FIND THAT VERY OFFENSIVE!" (also in unison)

"Ha! I rest my case."

"Take it back!" Junior shouted.

"Nope, I cannot tell a lie."

Afterwards, it was hard for Gandalf to say what happened first after that: a whip cracking to the theme song from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Saruman smacking him over the head with his staff, or himself falling onto the floor. He did know that Saruman screamed something about a broken fingernail after those aforementioned events had transpired. Then all Gandalf could see was stars.

"Take it back!"

Gandalf found himself hurtling through the air and landing with his back pinned against the wall maybe twenty feet above the floor.

"Take it back!" Saruman shouted again.

"You sonuvabitch…."

The invisible force holding him to the wall suddenly vanished and he crashed to the floor.

"Take that!" Saruman laughed. Gandalf grabbed up his staff where he dropped it and lashed out at Saruman. He skidded halfway across the room on his butt and smashed into the opposite wall.

"You're dead, you-you…" the White Wizard sputtered in fury.

"Who you callin' a youyou? YAAH!" Gandalf yelled. Saruman's head smacked into the wall again.

"Dudes! Oh, _behave_!" Junior shouted, but to no avail. Gandalf flew across the room again.

"OW! Okay, that's it, I'm going!" Gandalf said as he clambered to his feet. "Could you get the door for me, SaruMAN?"

Saruman careened into one of the sets of closed doors, slamming it open. Gandalf made a run for it, but suddenly found that he was no longer in possession of his staff.

"Oh sh-"

He slammed to the ground and flipped over, yelling further obscenities.

"I gave you the chance of …er…willingly….what was it? Oh, screw it."

Gandalf was now spinning on his head, going faster and faster. This was not at all to his liking.

"You," panted Saruman, attempting to cover up his previous mistake, "have elected the way of…PAIN!"

"Cool, dad. I didn't know you could launch wizards."

"Why thank you, Junior."

"I also didn't know you read your script."

"Shut up and go to your room."

Yes, short pointless chapter, I know. Review anyway! You know the drill! C'mon, please? I still need ideas for the Khazad-Dum scene! Give me a hand, please! Thank you, thank you very much.


	5. The Finish Line at the Prancing Pony

Chapter 5-The Finish Line at the Prancing Pony

A/N: Aww, c'mon, no reviews for the last chapter? Whatsa matter with you people? Doesn't anyone love me anymore? ::sobs:: Okay, all done whining now. Starting to sound like that Nazgul. Yes, I admit, I haven't updated for a while. Keep those reviews coming, please! I need to know if anyone's reading this!!! I apologize for the absurdly long length of this chapter. I may just split it in half. And now that the begging and pleading is all done, on with the story! We now join up with the hobbits once more….

"See anythin'?" Sam called up to Frodo. The sun had set, and now the peaceful woods of the Shire looked very gloomy and ominous indeed to the four hobbits. This wasn't helped at all by the fact that there was a strong chance of encountering something that had a black cloak, no face, dropping giant spiders everywhere and rather hostile feelings toward the company of said hobbits.

"Nothing," said Frodo as he peered around a tree trunk.

"What is going on?" whined Pippin, stumbling down the hill that Frodo had just come down to join them.

"That Black Rider was looking for something. Or someONE," Merry said darkly. "Frodo?"

"Um, we already took care of that back there, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."

"GET DOWN!" Sam cried suddenly. There was much cursing and rattling of cookware as the hobbits dove for the shrubbery.

"Might be something within a two mile radius that didn't hear us," Pippin muttered. "Man, some time to have a hangover…"

"Shut up. Hey look, it's our Black Rider friend!" Frodo whispered, pointing. "Sam, what's up with the big panic?"

"_Him_," Sam said with a shudder.

The Rider shrieked suddenly, in an unearthly voice that sounded to Frodo like a cross between a hawk and a mouse being tortured and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Wow, he's still upset? I didn't mean anything _personal_," Frodo muttered.

"Oh man, he's ahead of us!" Merry moaned. "C'mon, _MOVE_!"

They bolted from their hiding spot in a panic, following Merry, who seemed to have some idea of where they were going. They'd blundered through the woods a fairly good way, and the Brandywine River was almost in sight when-

"I'm sick of this damn chase! Gimme the Ring already!"

The sudden appearance of the Black Rider touched off a barrage of profanity from the fleeing hobbits, most notably Merry and Pippin. The Rider's horse lunged in front of them, trying to block their way. Merry, Pippin and Sam squirted around him without much difficulty, but Frodo was definitely having some trouble. 

"This is fun!" said Pippin as they sprinted away. "Let's leave Frodo back there to play tag with the faceless freak!"

"Not Mister Frodo! RUN FRODO, RUN!"

"Aw, Sam, you spoil everything."

Frodo made another dash to get around the crazed Rider, but was blocked yet again.

"Move it, you faceless freak!" he shouted in frustration.

"Call me a freak, will ya? Take this!" 

The Rider jerked the reins in Frodo's direction, trying to get the horse to squish him. Frodo was off and running now, down the hill, trying to catch up with his friends.

Merry and Pippin vaulted a rail fence in their way, and Sam tried to follow. Unfortunately, he was just not as graceful or nimble as the other two and his foot caught the rail on his way over. He landed face first in the grass with a loud crash.

"Why do _I _always have to lug around the bloody backpack?" he griped as he got to his feet and continued running.

They had already begun to untie the raft as Frodo came sprinting into view, Black Rider in hot pursuit.

"RUN, Frodo!"

"C'mon, hurry!"

"Run Toto, run! He got away, he got-"

"That's the Wizard of Oz script, Pippin."

"Cool! I can be a Munchkin!"

"Shut up and say your lines right."

"Right. RUN, FRODO, RUN!"

"Fro-do! Fro-do! Fro-do!"

"Merry!"

"Sorry."

They were moving the raft out into the water as all this yelling, screaming and bickering was going on, leaving a sizable gap between it and the shore.

"Run Frodo!" Merry shouted. "C'mon, JUMP!"

So he jumped. As soon as his feet left the ground he realized there was a small problem with this course of action. This was also dawning on the other hobbits except…

"LOOK OUT, SAM!" the three of them screamed in unison.

"Wha? Ooof!"

Splash.

Frodo's momentum had taken him and Sam off the other side of the raft, and now they were both swimming. Or more specifically, floundering, treading water and clinging desperately to the side of the raft like their lives depended on it. Which, in all truth, they did.

"Um, guys, isn't this scene not till the _end_ of the movie?" Merry asked.

"You can't swim!" Pippin pointed out.

"Hee hee. We're going to Bree alone!" Merry giggled.

"Of course you are," grunted Sam, trying to climb back on. "And we're coming with you!"

"Uh, Sam-"

"You're gonna-" Merry began.

Splash.

"-tip it."

"Damn, the water's cold."

"No duh," Sam and Frodo grumbled in unison, trying to get a new grip on the capsized raft.

"Hey, l-lookit, Merry," Pippin said, teeth chattering. "The our f-faceless freak f-friend didn't-t make it!"

"I don't think that was the same one," Frodo said.

"Out of curiosity, how can you tell?" Merry asked.

"He didn't cry when I called him a faceless freak."

"Hey, lookit, Merry!" Pippin breathed. "He's got friends!"

Indeed, there were now four Black Riders galloping along the back, making that eerie screaming noise that they had heard earlier, although one sounded more like a whimper than the cry of something demonic.

"Oh-wow. How far to the nearest crossing?"

"Brandywine bridge. Twenty miles."

"Well, that's good news," said Pippin. "How the heck do you know all this stuff, anyway?"

"Uh-'cause it's in the script?"

"Rrrright."

"D-d-don't tell m-me we're swimming all the way to Bree," Sam exclaimed fearfully, shivering severely.

"Only if we don't get this thing flipped over," Frodo said. "I have an idea. Merry and Pippin, you get on that end and push it down. Sam and I'll lift up on this end and pray like heck that it works."

  
"All righty then, great and fearless leader!" said Pippin. "Let's go!"

Now, if Frodo had thought this all the way through, he would've realized that when the raft was flipped over on their heads, he would smash and possibly drown a pair of hobbits very near and dear to his heart, which is, of course, what happened. There was much yelling, swearing, splashing and cries of "Help me! I'm drowning!" when the raft was successfully righted, and more things of this nature as they tried to climb back on, nearly resulting it being capsized again. So in the end there were four wet, freezing and cranky hobbits crossing the river to Bree. This was not helped at all by the fact that it was pouring rain by the time they got there, and the gatekeeper was PMS-ing or something when they knocked.

"What do you _want_?"

"To beat a bunch of faceless freaks here so Frodo can keep his Ring!" Sam exclaimed. "Let us in!"

"All right, little masters, I meant no offense. My business to ask questions after nightfall," the gatekeeper muttered as he opened the door.

"We don't care!" Frodo said as he pushed past him "Yippee skipee! We beat the Riders!"

"Yippee," Merry said with considerably less enthusiasm. "Dude, I need a drink. Where's the pub?"

"Er, right down this street, sir. The Prancing Pony," said the gatekeeper, sounding ever-so-slightly weirded out.

"Right-o! Off we go!"

So after much crowd-weaving and bumping into people's knees (Sam was wondering what so many people were doing out on a freezing rainy night) they found the Prancing Pony and hurried inside, shaking the rainwater out of their hair.

"Oooh, yeah, this is my kinda place!" said Merry, eagerly looking around. "Hey, where's all the girls?"

"Aw, crud, that's no fun," Pippin said. "C'mon, let's go."

"_Oh_ no," said Sam, grabbing Pippin by the shoulders as he turned for the door. "We are staying right here and-"

"Good evening, little masters! If you're seekin' accommodation, we've get some cozy, 'obbit-sized rooms available, mister…uh…"

"Er, hello," Frodo said. "My name's Baggins and-"

"Psst, Frodo, that's not in the script," Merry whispered, digging an elbow into Frodo's ribs.

"Er, I mean, my name's _Underhill_ and we're _looking_ for a Baggins. Bilbo Baggins."

"Bilbo? Is he short?"

"Yup."

"With big hairy feet?"

"Yeah."

"Crazy whit hair?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he's pretty darn old?"

"That's him! Can you tell us-?"

"Never heard of him. Do you want a room or not?"

"Er-"

Five minutes later the four hobbits were seated around a super-sized table with super-sized chairs _and _super-sized beer mugs, much to Merry and Pippin's delight. Frodo and Sam both looked a little apprehensive, but the other two were most definitely enjoying themselves, despite the lack of members of the female gender.

"What's that?" Merry asked Pippin as he came back from the bar.

"This, my friend, is a pint!"

"It comes in pints?"

"Mm!"

"I'm getting one!"

"Haven't you had about enough already?" Sam asked.

"No, _mother_."

"I think you have."

"Stuff it," Pippin muttered as he went up to the bar.

Sam sighed in exasperation and turned to Frodo. "That man's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived."

Frodo glanced over to the corner where Sam was pointing. There was a man sitting there, dressed in a khaki shirt, dark green pants and a Smokey-the-Bear hat, and was leering out at them from under the brim.

"That's 'cause he thinks she's pretty!" Merry suggested. "Sam, shouldn't you be jealous?"

Sam slammed his head onto the table, rattling the mugs. "I am _so _sick of those stupid jokes! I'm straight, okay? And so's Mister Frodo. Right, Mister Frodo?"

"I donno Sam, those are some pretty sexy elbows you got there…" Frodo said, locking his eyes onto that particular part of Sam's anatomy.

"I beg your pardon!"

"Yo, Butterbur!" Frodo called to the passing bartender. "That man in the corner, who is he?"

"He's one of then Park Rangers. Strange folk they are, and annoying and bossy as hell. What his right name is, I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Skipper-I mean, Strider. Damn, I always do that." He muttered the last part to himself as he walked away, shaking his head.

"Skipper-er, Strider…" Frodo muttered and glanced nervously over at the Ranger, who still hadn't taken his eyes off him.

"Hey Merry lookit!" Pippin called suddenly from over at the bar.

"What _now_?" Merry sighed in an exasperated tone. 

"I got Fro-do's ring thing! I got Fro-do's ring thing!" Pippin chanted and waved the Ring above his head.

"WHAT? Give that back!"

Pippin just grinned and shook his head, then hopped off the stool he was sitting on and ran through the crowd.

"Come back here!"

"Come and get it!" Pippin taunted.

"You stupid-"

"Hey Merry, go long!"

Pippin pitched the Ring across the room, and Frodo made a desperate dive for it. Sam saw what was about to happen and ducked under the table just as Frodo slid headlong over it, scattering beer mugs everywhere and crashing to the floor on the other side at Merry's feet. "Ha! You suck, Frodo!"

The other patrons of the inn had stopped whatever they were doing to watch the hobbits play keep-away, although not all with an approving eye, namely Strider and Butterbur.

Frodo made a grab for Merry and tackled him as he threw the Ring back to Pippin, who caught it and ran. Frodo scrambled up and dashed for Pippin, pitched it back to Merry. Frodi mad another spectacular dive, once again in Sam's general direction.

"Ha! Interception!" Frodo yelled happily as he strained to catch it. It fell over one finger and…

"Where'd he go?!" Merry shouted. "Ooof!"

Some invisible force plowed into Merry, who fell under the table and on top of Sam. 

Frodo, meanwhile, was very confused.

He pulled himself off Merry, stepping on Sam's fingers.

"Yowtch!"

"Sorry," Frodo muttered, dragging himself out from under the table.

"What was that? Who said that?"  
  
"Me, you fool."

"Frodo?"

"No, your great-aunt Millie. Of course it's me."

"Oh my gawd! We killed Frodo! He's a ghost!"

"Holy wow, guys, look at that!"

"What? What? Look at what?" Sam was sounding a bit panicky.

"See? See the giant red eye??"

"What eye? Frodo, stop it, you're scaring us."

"HOW IN BLOODY HELL CAN YOU MISS THAT EYE? IT HASN'T SEEN VISENE FOR A COUPLE MILLENIA…."

"Take the Ring off," an unfamiliar voice said slowly.

"What? Oh, yeah, right."

Obediently he pulled off the Ring. The creepy eye vanished, and in its place was the Park Ranger's face. The first thought through Frodo's mind was "oh wow, he needs to shave."

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, 'Mr. Underhill'."

"Uh, sorry…"

The Ranger easily lifted Frodo, shoved him up the stairs in the back of the bar and into an empty room.

"What the-? Dude, I said I was sorry, what's the problem?" Frodo protested as he scrambled to his feet. Strider was busy putting out the candles and muttering something about air pollution.

"Um, sir?"

"Disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, theft-"

"I wasn't drunk and I didn't steal anything!"

"Really now? A Bilbo Baggins informed me that you'd stolen his magic Ring and-"

The door burst open just then, and three angry hobbits charged in, brandishing a stool, a candlestick, and a pair of fists belonging to Sam.

"Let him go, you perv!" he shouted. "You disgusting…oh….crap…."

The reality had just dawned on Sam that this particular Ranger had a sword, that the sword was very long and very sharp, and the point of it was hovering a few inches away from his face.

"Please don't skewer me," he begged meekly.

"So much for Samwise the Brave," Frodo muttered, rolling his eyes. 

Strider sheathed his formidable weapon.

"Since when do Park Rangers carry swords?" Pippin asked.

"Since always. They're standard issue nowadays. Chill," he said with a nod in Sam's direction.

Okay, now it's your turn! Gimme some feedback! Flame me, I don't care. Click on the button down there in the bottom left! See it? Thanks bunches!


	6. A Breif Word From The Nazgul

A Brief Word from Nazgul, Inc. 

Or

The Chapter in Which the Laws of Physics are Thrown to the Wind

A/N: I apologize for the inexcusable amount of time it's taken me to update here, but there's this evil thing called school that has allowed me no time to get on the computer. 

THIS IS AN IMPORTANT NOTICE: If you give me a signed review so I can get to your profile, I'll write you into an upcoming chapter! All the more opportunity for chaos, confusion and general insanity, if I know the ff.net crowd.

And so ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, The Queen of Fire once again proudly presents (Drumroll, please) the next chapter!

The Black Riders were definitely not happy. As soon as Frodo had accidentally put the Ring on his finger, they knew they'd been beaten to Bree. By a hobbit. A hobbit on foot, no less. Oh, the shame. They were never going to live this down, and if Sauron ever got wind of this, they'd be deader than they already were. Or weren't. But that didn't matter right at the moment. Not for the Witch King, anyway.

"I say we screw the stupid race and go get the Ring anyway!" he suggested.

"Yeah! Good idea!"

"But…but…that's not fair…"

"Shut up you stupid crybaby, nobody cares!"

"W-why isn't a-anything I s-say important?"

"'Cause you're too whiny. C'mon, let's go!"

"F-fine, you-you meanie…"

"Don't you dare call me a you-you! Let's go! Haaa!" 

The Witch King kicked his horse into a gallop and the rest quickly followed suit. 

They reached the gates of Bree in record time.

"Let's knock it down!" yelled the Witch King, urging his horse to go even faster.

"Dude…"

"That's really not a good idea…"

WHAM.

"Ow."

The gate failed to fall over when the horse ran into it. Unfortunately, the other Riders also failed to stop after they realized this, and impacted the gate in a similar manner as the first had.

WHAM.

WHAM.

WHAM.

WHAM.

"Ow."

"Ow."

"Ow."

"Ow."

Horses and Riders were tangled together in a hopeless heap at the foot of the gate, which still hadn't budged an inch. The words the unfortunate Nazgul were muttering as they tried to extract themselves from the mess were of the vilest adjectives that the Black Speech had available. Not that you could, or wanted to, translate them into the Common tongue anyway. 

"Get up!" the Witch King called irritably from the bottom of the stack. "We're gonna try again!"

"Er, I think my horse is knocked out."

"No excuses! Get moving!"

"All right, all right. Get up, Bob."

"There's something wrong with you, dude."

They led their mounts back a little ways, then galloped at it again.

CRUNCH.

Miraculously, the gate gave way and toppled over into the mud. The King was about to let out a whoop of victory when the second Rider's horse stepped right on the edge where it was balanced on a stone in the road, giving it the leverage to swing back up and over, toppling right back over on the whole group.

SQUISH.

"Ow."

"Medic…"

Well, to make a rather long and tedious story short, they did eventually get the gate off themselves, and were all much more peeved than they were before, if that was even possible. There's nothing like adding a little injury to insult to get an already-pissed-off-Nazgul even madder.

A few minutes after the Gate Incident, as it came to be known, the Hobbits and Strider heard very weird noises from over in the next room, and Sam went to have a look. Very carefully he opened the door a crack and heard the Riders talking.

"Feathers? FEATHERS! Hobbits are made of FEATHERS?? Feathers can't take the Ring very far…"  
Sam closed the door quietly and returned to the room, sniggering to himself.

"What was it?" asked Frodo as he came in.

"Our faceless friends mutilating bed pillows."

"Ah.."

"Faceless friends?" said Strider. "They guys who go trampling all over the countryside on black horses with _no _respect for bridle trail signs and the delicate vegetation?"

"Um, yeah, them," said Sam with a sideways glance over at Merry and Pippin, both rolling their eyes.

"Ringwraiths," Strider muttered. "Been a menace around here ever since Midsummer's Eve. They're so intent on getting the Ring that they'll stop at nothing to get it."

"Then maybe we'd better bug on outta here. They are right next door.." Pippin pointed out.

The next morning they found themselves hiking through the woods again, following Strider and leading a pony and gossiping about their newfound leader.

"So who's this Strider think he is? He's just leading us off into the Wild, and Bilbo's still in Bree, as far as we know," said Merry, speaking low so the Park Ranger couldn't hear.

"I didn't see a single Elf," muttered Sam. "Gandalf said there were Elves in Bree, didn't he?"

"Well, obviously Bilbo's not in Bree," Frodo said, ignoring Sam. "Whereas the Black Riders are. I don't know about you, but those things give me the collywobbles. Bilbo's loss if he doesn't have his precious Ring."

"How do we know we can trust him, anyway?" asked Merry. "my mom always said never talk to strangers, and he's a weird one, if I do say so."

"Well, he is an authority figure," Frodo said. "Look at the uniform."

"He coulda killed a Park Ranger and took it from him," Pippin suggested.

"I don't think so," said Sam. "No one can kill a Ranger."

"I wish that were so," Strider called back to them. "And that's the Phantom Menace script you got there, Pippin."

"Oops," the hobbits said in unison. "VerysorryStrider."

"Hey, where are we going anyway?" Sam asked suddenly.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee, to the House of Elrond."

"Cool! Rivendell! All right!" Pippin said. "Where's that?"

"Honestly, did you ever pay attention in geography class?"

"No."

"Hey, Merry! Stay on the path! The vegetation's very rare and delicate!"

"VerysorryStrider, won't happen again," Merry muttered as he stepped back onto the trail. He gave Pippin his best Glower of Doom as the hobbit sniggered behind his hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~*


	7. A Truck Bumper in the Dark

Chapter 6-A Truck Bumper in the Dark

Gandalf was not a happy wizard. 

He'd been camped on top of Orthanc tower for three days, four hours, thirty-six minutes and forty-nine seconds, to be exact, with absolutely nothing to do but play paper-scissors-rock with himself, which got pretty old after the 400th round or so. He was pissed at Saruman for trying to be Mister Macho Wizard and pitching him up there just because he could, and at Saruman Jr. The Pink for starting it. Where did he get that Indiana Jones crap anyway? Indiana Jones? Hmmm….must make note of this. I could make it big in Hollywood….

He checked his watch again. Three days, four hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds. Still, bored, not quite as pissed. This might have been his big break. Now if he could only get down…

~*~*~*~*~*~

Saruman was a happy wizard. 

He'd gotten rid of that pain-in-the-ass Grey Wizard and was free to plot the ultimate distruction of the world of Men unhampered. All he needed was the Ring, and that would be fairly easy. He'd plan that later.

At the moment he decided he needed to call an old friend he'd met at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They'd been in the same house (Slytherin, naturally), and this particular friend was the Draco Malfoy type, only slightly more evil. And he didn't have a body, but details, details…

He picked up his cell and speed-dialed the number: 1-800 DEATH TO STRIDER. An automatic recording answered. Sauron must have expanded his operation since last they chatted.

"Hello, you have reached the Bara-Dur hotline for All things Evil. If you would like to speak to the Mouth of Sauron, press 1. If you would like to reach the Witch King, tough cookies, he's out hunting hobbits. If you would like to reach Shagrat, press 2 and leave a message. He's killing off some rival orcs. If it is completely necessary that you speak to Dark Lord Sauron, Lord of the Rings, Middle Earth, and Playelf magazine, go BLEEEP yourself 'cause he doesn't wanna talk to a stupid loser like you anyway, who do you think you are you useless evil wanna-be? Please press 666 and wait a few ages and he'll get back to you, I'm sure. Mwahahahahahahahaaaa…sucker! Beeeeep!"

Saruman rolled his eyes. Sauron forgot to mention he was the Lord of the Annoying Answering Machine Messages as well.

"Hi, this is the White Wizard, just checking in, my lord, seeing if you need anything-"

Crackle, clunk "YO!! Saruman, my man, you called just in time! I just won Isengard in this poker game with this drunk elf and now I have ultimate control over you, and all those little orcies that you keep for pets and I'm so excited, aren't you? This TOTALLY rocks!"

"It does, my lord."

"So, I need a favor dude."

"Anything, my lord."

"Ahem-BUILD ME AN ARMY WORTHY OF MORDOR!"

"Ooh, you gave me goosebumps, my lord."

"Cut the mushy stuff and get cracking!"

"Yes, my lord."

~*~*~*~*~*

"Hey, lookit, Merry, check out that tower!" Pippin said excitedly, pointing to the hill ahead of them.

"Cool."

"It used to be a great watch tower of Amon-Sul, and more recently we rangers use it as a firewatch station. We will rest here tonight. It's the only designated campground for miles, anyway."

The hobbits rolled their eyes.

They hiked to the top and got their camp set up with minimum fuss, well, almost, except for Pippin dropping an iron skillet on Sam's toe, who hopped around for a few minutes in agony, howling obscenities until Frodo and Strider managed to restrain him. After that, Sam pouted in a corner, nursing his wounded toes and glaring murder in the Took's direction.

"These are for you," Strider said, tossing each if them a pop gun. You know, the kind that shoot ping-pong balls. Sam, Frodo and Pippin easily caught theirs, but Merry's went right over his head. He made an attempt to catch it, but overbalanced and flopped onto his back, gun smacking him in the forehead.

"Out of curiosity, what for?" he asked as he sat up, rubbing the growing welt.

"One never knows," Strider said mysteriously, waggling his eyebrows. "I am going to patrol the area. Stay here."

The hobbits watched him go with varying degrees of confusion and incomprehension written on their faces.

"There is definitely something wrong with our park ranger friend," Pippin said when he was out of earshot. "He's either insanely macho or insanely paranoid or just plain insane, and money's on the latter."

"Agreed, " Merry said. "Ah, well, no use worrying about it now. Suppertime!"

It was getting dark when they'd gotten their tomatoes, sausages and nice crispy bacon ready, and it was getting cold too, but the hobbits didn't mind. Pippin had discovered the function of the pop gun, much to the annoyance of his companions.

"Heee hee…you pull the trigger and POP! Bullseye!"

"OW!"

"Gotcha Frodo!"

"POP!"

"OW!"

"You too, Sam. And here's one for you, Merry!"

He ducked.

The offending ping-pong ball arced gracefully over the edge of their campsite, and disappeared.

"MY AMMO!"

Pippin went diving after the errant ping-pong, quite forgetting Strider's order to stay put.

"Pippin! Get back here!" Frodo yelled. The remaining hobbits crowded to the edge to watch the spectacle.

"I can't find it! AAAAAAH! Maybe it went under the bushes over here?? AHH! I need that ping-pong! Guys, come and help me!"

"You were shooting us!"

"Fine, fine, I promise. No more! Pleeeeease come help me!!!"

"No."

"Aw, c'mon. It's dark and I'm scared and I can't find it in the dark and I'll be defenseless if I don't have it and you guys wouldn't want something to eat your old buddy, would you? I promise I'll never even aim in your direction if you come down and help me find it PLEASE!"

"All RIGHT! We're coming, " Frodo yelled back in exasperation. "Shut up before everything in the wild hears ya!"

"Thank you so much you're so sweet, I'll make it up to you…"  
"Shut up."

The search began with a thorough going-over of the bushes, turning up nothing. Frodo wandered down the hill a little farther, thinking that it might have rolled. He was scouring the bushes at the base of the hill when a little gleam of white caught his eye. Eagerly he scooted over, bent down to pick it up…

"We meet again, Mr. Baggins."

It was a dark voice. A scary, hissy voice. A voice he associated with faceless freaked galloping around on horseback in the spooky woods.

"Oh. Shit."

Frodo froze. This was so not in the script. The Black Riders came after THEM and shoved Merry and Pippin and Sam out of the way and Frodo falls over on his butt and scoots back and puts the Ring on and gets skewered, which in his mind was not only extremely pathetic, but insanely stupid.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam took off down the slope, straight at the Wraiths. There were more of them coming now.

"He's mad, " Pippin said in disbelief, pausing from his frenzied search.

"Seconded," said Merry.

"HEY GUYS!!" Sam called to the Riders. "Remember me?"

"Yeah," said one with a snively voice. "You're the one with the really bright light, aren't you?"

Sam's hand went to his pocket, where it touched the digital camera. He sensed an air of bitterness and revenge in the Rider's voice, a tone that he didn't like at all.

"Er-"

"Oh, yes you are! You're the little meanie who can't be nice to anybody and-"

"Aw, shut up you stupid crybaby!" Pippin yelled. The two hobbits decided that there was more safety in numbers, and scurried down to join the other two.

Sniffle. "I-I'm not a crybaby!"

"He's just a sensitive soul, " said another Wraith, putting his hand on the sobbing Rider's shoulder. Sam snorted, and the other hobbits fought back giggles.j

"Now you're _laughing _at me! I may not be able to see, but I can hear, you know."

"Hey, dudes, Ring alert, " the Witch King said suddenly, sniffing the air. Frodo still hadn't moved. He was still bent over awkwardly at the King's feet, hand inches away from the ping-pong ball. He decided now was the time to act.

Frodo scooped up the ball, and in one swift motion, chucked it at where the Witch King's face should have been. It vanished into the darkness, and the King squealed in surprise. 

"AHH!" He was grabbing the outside of his robes in a panic, trying to figure out where the ping-pong went. "It tickles! Ooooh! Get it out, get it OUT! HeeeeheheeheeeheeeheeeheeeUGH! Stop it Stop it! It tickles!"

The Frodo didn't wait around to see what would happen next. He took off away from the hill, screaming bloody murder. The Riders and the other hobbits didn't give pursuit quite yet. They were all fascinated by the King's dilemma.

"Help me! Hahahahahahahahaaheeeeheee whoo, ooooooh! AAA…aaaagh."

A little puddle of water appeared between the Witch King's feet. Apparently the undead could still wet their robes. The giggles stopped, at least from that Wraith, whose embarrassment was quickly turning into rage.

"AFTER HIM, BOYS!" he crowed. The Wraiths took off after the panicked hobbit.

"Mr. Frodo!"

Sam took off after the panicked hobbit and the frenzied Wraiths.

Merry and Pippin looked at each other, shrugged, then took off after the panicked hobbit, the frenzied Wraiths, and the defensive gardener, both seriously questioning their sanitity. Or lack thereof.

"AHHHHH! HELP ME SAM!"

Frodo had a fairly good lead over the frenzied Wraiths to start with, but it was closing a bit faster than he'd have liked. Sam, meanwhile, was wearing out faster than Frodo, whose panic attack and adrenaline rush had given him the ability to do some superhuman, er, super_hobbit _feats.

"Mr. Frodo, wait for me!"

Frodo went sailing over a fallen log higher than would have been possible in his normal state. All the Wraiths but one cleared it easily. The crybaby went on his face. A second later, Sam fell over the log and did a spectacular somersault onto the Rider. Merry and Pippin followed close behind, ending up in a neat little pile on top of the unhappy Wraith.

"This is just not my day," Sam mumbled as he pulled his face from the grass.

Frodo decided that he was screwed. He heard the hobbits go down, and a glance behind him told him that he wasn't going to last much longer if something didn't turn him into Super Hobbit. He saw lights coming through the woods towards him, accompanied by a funny roaring sound. He didn't know or care what it was at this point. He had better things to worry about. The Wraiths were almost on top of him when several things happened at once.

Strider came dashing full-pelt at the chase from off to the right, waving his sword. A pair of headlights popped out of nowhere, accompanied by a loud squealing of brakes. It took Frodo a split second to realize that the headlights were on a direct collision course with him, and another split second to realize he had stopped dead…

Yes, folks, this is a cliffhanger. Can't scroll down any more! You can't see what happens.. Mwahahahahahaaaa. Tune in again next time and send reviews!


End file.
